


Open Your Thighs For The Next Faiz

by SPANDEXUAL



Category: Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider 555
Genre: Hate Sex, Knotting, M/M, Rough Sex, Spoilers, no love lost that's for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8531401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPANDEXUAL/pseuds/SPANDEXUAL
Summary: Takumi and Kusaka are left alone to bicker as usual, but Kusaka's sick curiosity twists it into something more.SPOILERS FOR 555 PAST EP 34. This is some hatesex fetish porn involving exactly what you might think if you know what those spoilers are. Consider yourself warned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I envisioned Takumi’s Orphnoch form looking more like an actual wolf furry instead of a spiky sentai mech-faced dude wearing a helmet, and only realised about halfway through I was actually thinking about Garuru from Kiva, so that is why it’s Extra Furry. Sorry not sorry tbh. Artistic licence and all that. Disclaimer: AM NOT FURRY DON’T @ ME WELLER

Takumi isn’t sure how it came to this. How he was doing this with _Kusaka_ , of all people. Kusaka. He still can’t think of him as _Masato_ even now with his fingers digging into his side and full lips against his own. It’s not like it’s the first time either, but he can’t remember how it started. Was it the first time they fought for real, Kaixa’s violet lenses a hair’s breadth away from his own, the technological thrum and static of their suits sparking against each other and making his hair stand on end? Or was it one of the countless times they’d cornered each other while the other two were out, close quarters and so-called misunderstandings heating their bodies as well as their words?

He knows one thing for sure, and that’s Kusaka still hates him just as much as he hates Kusaka. So why are they here in his bedroom, the others due back any moment?

Takumi supposes this is a better way to blow off steam than beating the life out of each other, but it’s still surreal.

Kusaka bites his lower lip and he gasps, questions melting away under the heavy heat of hatred and lust, and when callused hands move from his waist to his belt, he can’t deny that he’s into it. He drags his own nails, long and sharp, across Kusaka’s back, egging him on, and Kusaka replies by shoving him hard down onto the bed.

They tear off each other’s clothes as violently as if they’re fighting, and Takumi feels a tingle of sadistic pleasure when Kusaka cringes away from the sting of nails cutting into the soft skin of his upper arms. He’s not attractive. Takumi doesn’t care. He’s pliable, twisting and turning like he’s trying to wriggle out of Takumi’s grasp, but there’s barely any strength behind it, and he brushes against Takumi’s crotch more times than can be pure coincidence. But Takumi only has the upper hand for a moment, and soon Kusaka has his teeth against his hammering pulse, sharp and threatening. It’s an empty threat, followed through with only a light scrape, but the danger turns Takumi on, and when an embarrassing whimper escapes him, Kusaka merely scoffs.

“Is this all it takes for you?” he teases, and without warning, sucks a hickey right under his jaw. It’s not much longer before Takumi’s entire throat is covered in bites and blooming bruises, and Kusaka doesn’t seem satisfied even then.

“Show me your real face,” he hisses, chasing the words with a sharp nip to the ear, and Takumi furrows his brow in confusion.

“Your real face, Orphnoch!”

Takumi snarls.

He can see himself changing in the reflection of Kusaka’s wide eyes and feels his fur bristle, but Kusaka stays still. He’s breathing hard, and Takumi thinks for a second that he might be afraid, but then he grabs a handful of his ash-grey fur and pulls him close.

“Fuck me.” Kusaka spits, and even in this armoured form Takumi can feel how hard he is. He’d smirk if he could.

“I don’t think you can handle it.” Takumi’s human projection sneers down at Kusaka from the bedroom wall, and his Orphnoch form gets his ear wrenched down to Kusaka’s lips in response.

“I didn’t ask for your advice, monster.”

Takumi whimpers again, this time in pain, and flattens his ears against his head.

“Good boy.” Kusaka sneers, and releases his grasp on his ear to give him a condescending pat on the snout. Takumi despises him. But he’s not going to turn down an offer like that, and gets up to pick a jar of coconut oil off his dresser. He can’t think of anything else that would work.

“Is this what you jack off with?” Kusaka asks once he sees the jar, his tone mocking and scornful.

Takumi nearly rolls his eyes.

“No, it’s too keep my coat thick and glossy.” It’s a half truth. He uses it for his hair. He eyes Kusaka’s split ends with distaste. Interesting that he’s thought about him jacking off, though.

“Are you curious about how I do it?” Takumi’s projection asks, sliding along the floor and up against the wall again as his Orphnoch body slinks back to the bed. Kusaka looks as though he’s about to mouth off, but then notices the dark, slick point emerging from the armoured sheath where Takumi’s crotch is, and falls silent.

Takumi’s projection stifles a laugh as his Orphnoch form throws the jar to Kusaka.

“Get yourself ready.”

There’s no way he can do it himself in this form, and frankly, even if he could, he doesn’t want to. That’s a level of gentleness he doesn’t feel particularly inclined to give right now.

Kusaka looks at the jar, then glares at him before opening it. It’s not hot enough for it to have completely liquefied yet, and for all his skills, he seems to have no idea what to do with it.

“It’s not rocket science,” Takumi’s projection grumbles, and he dips a claw into the semi-solid white oil. What prompts him to spread it onto Kusaka’s cock instead of his own, he doesn’t know. Kusaka’s eyes go wide and he lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp.

The oil liquefies almost instantly on contact with Kusaka’s hot skin as he jerks him off, and Takumi can’t resist bending down and letting his long, flexible tongue lick it back up.

There’s no going back from this, he thinks, but he keeps lapping and to hell with the consequences. It feels good, having this sneering asshole under him, cock twitching against his tongue, completely under his control, even if he’s doing all the work. From day one he’s wanted this. Not Kusaka’s dick in his mouth so much, but just to prove that he’s better than him at something. And he doubts any human can do what he can do with his tongue. He can’t suck him off with a mouth like this, but he wraps his long tongue around Kusaka’s cock like a sleeve and looks up at him, teeth bared as he tries to grin smugly. Kusaka looks horrified, eyes wide and body shaking. Well, Takumi thought it was horror, right up until a rope of thick cum splashes against the roof of his mouth. He splutters in surprise at first, but the salt and musk mixed with the strong taste of coconut is oddly delicious, and he swallows it, licking his lips hungrily.

“No wonder you can’t get a girl if you come that quick.” Takumi’s projection sneers. Kusaka just smirks in response, and trails his fingers from the base of Takumi’s sheath all the way to the dripping, pointed tip, the full charcoal length exposed against the light grey of his stomach.

“No wonder you can’t get a girl if you get off so much just sucking dick.”

Kusaka’s smile is as vicious as his words. His hand encircles Takumi’s dick and pulls it forward just to let it go again, and Takumi tries not to wince as it slaps wetly against his stomach.

“Slut.”

 _I’m not the one spreading my legs for a monster_ , Takumi thinks, but his Orphnoch form is panting. He tries to calm himself down as Kusaka starts preparing himself, but it’s hard when those tiny noises Kusaka thinks he’s keeping in are flooding his sensitive ears and he’s so hard it hurts.

“You like watching?” Kusaka whispers. Takumi tries not to look at the hand between his thighs, or how the ropey muscles of his forearm flex with each movement of his wrist. “Creep.”

They lock gazes, and Takumi call tell that he has lost again when Kusaka grins. He goes easily when Kusaka pushes him onto his back by the throat, and he just knows that he has to look like a submissive dog rolling over to his alpha. Kusaka looks like he thinks so too, but instead of saying anything, he just slicks up Takumi’s hard dick with that same creepy grin on his face and kneels above him.

“You’re worthless,” he breathes, and sinks down, calloused hand around Takumi’s dick guiding the way. The pointed tip enters easier than a human’s would and Takumi groans at the tight heat soon enveloping his dick completely. Without even taking a moment to adjust, Kusaka starts riding him hard and fast. His teeth are gritted and his brows knit in concentration, but when Takumi’s clawed hand comes to rest on his hip, he wrenches it away.

“Don’t touch me, scum. Just be a good dog and stay where I tell you.”

He keeps him down with both hands firmly planted on his chest, and Takumi lets him believe that’s enough. He’s never liked doing all the work anyway, and there’s something that rubs his ego about all of this. The insults are shallow enough that he can feel the shame behind them, sees it in the set of Kusaka’s brow and the way his hands shake, but he’s getting off on it. Is he that attractive? His lip curls, and Kusaka doesn’t push his hands away again when he grabs his hips and bucks up into him.

There’s no love in it. It’s a race, a competition, and one neither one of them wants to lose. Takumi tightens his grip as he pounds him. The slap of soft skin against monstrous armour echoes throughout the room, filthy and violent, but Kusaka only smiles, his eyes glittering like he’s trying not to laugh. It’s kind of disturbing. Takumi tries not to look at him. Isn’t he supposed to be the predator here?  He feels like a wolf caught in a bear trap, and Kusaka is the hunter here to collect his head.

As if he could sense the trepidation trickling through Takumi’s veins, Kusaka starts stroking his chest, strong hands smoothing over monstrous muscles. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps smiling as he grinds down, forcing their hips into an even rhythm. Takumi groans. It’s too much, the fear and adrenaline and hatred and heat so tight around his dick that he can barely think. He’s not going to last much longer. He digs his claws in, just short of piercing flesh, and feels his knot start to swell.

He panics. The monster inside him wants to keep going and to hell with Kusaka, but the human part knows that this is going to hurt, and as fucked up as their relationship is, he doesn’t want to injure him, especially in a way that might be easily misunderstood. He pulls out, and Kusaka glares down at him.

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing?”

He takes a moment to calm himself before projecting his human form on the wall.

“You don’t want that inside.”

Kusaka’s glare sharpens. “I don’t recall telling you that I didn’t, mutt.”  
“You don’t understand, if it–”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, but if you’d listen–”

Kusaka pushes against him, eyes wild. “Then breed me!”

The bulge presses hard against his entrance as he tries to shove it in, but it’s not budging.

“Look, if you really want it, just relax.”

Kusaka punches him, hard. In this form, it just momentarily dazes him, but he knows that would have knocked him flat on his back otherwise. He lunges forward, blind with anger, and finally, he feels the knot slip inside.

The choked-back sob he hears cuts through the haze of fury, but he’s too close and too angry to show any real concern.

“I told you that you couldn’t handle it,” his projection mutters, and Kusaka flings his fist to strike the wall as if that could shut him up. It’s then he notices the steady trickle of cum leaking out of Kusaka’s dick.

“Stay.”

His voice is too broken for Takumi to be able to tell if that was a command or a plea, but it’s not like he can go anywhere now they’re tied, nor would he want to leave the twitching, tightly clenching heat anyway. Kusaka bites his own hand to keep silent, thighs shuddering as Takumi grinds in the same spot, milking his prostate with each movement.

The half-gagged sounds are hotter than they have any right to be, and the last threads of Takumi’s self control finally snap. He comes with a long, drawn-out whine as he empties his balls of what feels like every last drop of hot cum, and doesn’t notice the corner of Kusaka’s mouth curling into a self-satisfied smirk as his vision fades to black.

 

Takumi wakes to a hand idly stroking the fur on the back of his neck.

“It’s only been a few minutes.” Kusaka murmurs before he can even find the strength to move. That much he can tell from how his knot is only just starting to go down, but the question on his mind is what happens next.

“Don’t you think this is nice?”

Takumi doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“I said,” Kusaka cruelly twists his hand into Takumi’s fur, “Isn’t this nice?”

He can’t keep this up any more. Kusaka watches with dull disinterest as everything shrinks back down into just Takumi, and untangles his hand from the long brown hair that has replaced grey fur.

“Hmmm.” He sounds like he’s going to say something more, but Takumi doesn’t feel like talking, and rolls off him. Kusaka winces as he pulls out, and Takumi feels a twinge of guilt as he looks down at his battered body. There are cuts and scrapes all over his legs from where he must’ve been leaning against armoured spikes, bruises already forming on his hips, cum smeared all over his stomach and leaking from his swollen hole. He looks back at Takumi with lidded eyes and a faint smirk, and idly runs his fingers through the mess on his stomach. He looks… satisfied. They lie in silence for a while, and just when Takumi thinks he’s about to pass out again, Kusaka rolls on top of him and swipes his thumb across Takumi’s parted lips, smearing them with white.

“Next time, I’ll fuck you like the bitch you are,” he whispers, and runs his hands down Takumi’s body before pushing himself off the bed.

_Next time?_

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice that Kusaka has used his t-shirt to wipe himself off until it’s thrown in his face, and by then, Kusaka is already dressed and leaving.

He huffs angrily, and when he comes down for dinner hours later, Kusaka smiles sweetly and gives him an extra helping of cream sauce.

Neither Mari nor Keitaro understand it when he storms off without a word.


End file.
